Let's Swim
by Rb
Summary: A day in the life: Takeru and Iori's (G-rated!) fluff-bonding on the beach. Upamon changes color, and that's as good a reason as any to read this fic. ^_-


I love the beach. I love Iori. I love Takeru. Thus, this fic. ^_^ I love those three things in different amounts, of course -- I'm a water-baby, I would live in the water if I could breathe underwater, Iori's too squishy-cute and awesome, and Takeru's just plain coolness. And it's really wet, and it's really cold, and it's REALLY ICKY outside, so I write about a nice summer day. 

I translated Jyou's and Iori's shared trait as 'Faithfulness' rather than 'Sincerity.' There's a couple reasons for this -- a) The Japanese word means both sincerity and faithfulness, and b) I associate the trait of sincerity with being very pure and innocent, and those traits don't suit Iori at all, while being faithful and reliable is something that suits both Iori and Jyou very well. Oh, and the word 'oniichan' means older brother.

There is a lot of Takeru/Iori bonding. There's even some male bonding. But it's mostly Takeru/Iori bonding. This fic could be a Takori. (And no, that's doesn't mean Takeru/Sora/Hikari.) But it could also not be a Takori, and could instead be a brotherly/friendshippy fic. There's no more physical contact in this fic than there is in the actual series. (If anyone's interested, I'll send you the pic, which is taken directly from a video clip of the episode.) If you want to interpret this fic as a romantic fic, even though it's not in the romance section, then you can interpret it as romance. (Then it would be ::enunciates:: SHOUNEN AI.) If you absolutely hate boy/boy pairings, then you should probably not interpret it as romance. If you still think that it's too much shounen ai, then read it anyway, because you get to see Upamon change color, how cool is that?

Thank you, beta-readers. ^_^ This takes place right after the Submarimon episode.

I don't own Digimon. If I owned Digimon, first I'd scrap the guy that narrates at the end, then I'd change Agumon's voice, and then I'd...um...^_^;;

**Let's Swim  
by Rb**

"Iori-kun." I look at the younger boy, walking steadily behind me. His head is bent forward, his solemn green eyes tracing the patterns of the pavement. "We're here."  
  
He looks up. "Takeru-san? Oh, thank you."  
  
He's so formal, it's just a trip to the beach. He asked me to go with him and I agreed, first 'cause I love the beach, second 'cause Iori's never asked me to do anything outside of going to the digital world before.   
  
I wonder how come he asked me on this trip. He didn't ask it like most kids ask friends to go the beach, he was all worried and tense-looking, like he's afraid of how I'll answer. I don't see why he's worried, it's not like I'd dream of being mean to any of my friends.  
  
But me of all people -- I never thought we were particularly close, he's always seemed to be closer friends with Miyako. I don't mind, but I'm curious, and I glance at the boy as we make our way to the beach.  
  
"Don't stare," he says suddenly, "it's impolite."  
  
Right, right, Iori's big on manners and mannerisms. It's cute but strange, a little boy like him all obsessed with being polite. It's what makes him Iori, I guess.   
  
"Gomen," I apologize instantly.  
  
"It's all right," he says, a bit contrite. "Is this an okay spot, Takeru-san?"  
  
"Yeah!" I say. The beach isn't too crowded, odd for such a nice day at this time of year. We set down our towels and bags. I unzip my green backpack and Patamon's head pops out.  
  
"Takeru, is it all right for me to get out now?" he asks.  
  
"Yeah, just don't fly too high, or else the TV camera will come again..."  
  
"I liked getting on TV," Patamon says reflectively. "That was fun."  
  
"Yeah, and seeing Dad come down from the station to cover the story was cool, too, but we really shouldn't attract so much attention, okay?"   
  
Patamon nods and flies off. Iori, meanwhile, has unpacked Upamon and set the cream puff digimon down on a large beach towel.   
  
"That's smart, " I say vaguely. "It's gonna be a hot day, the sand'll burn your feet." Iori looks up at me and nods. I spread my own beach towel, noting that while Iori's towel is a large, plain tan towel, mine has baseball designs on it.  
  
Iori unpacks more things from his bulky brown bag: a large umbrella, some sunscreen -- SPF 50 -- a large basket full of food, three more towels (each in shades of beige), his D-3, a thick hardcover book, insect repellent, extra T-shirts, a deflated inner tube... I laugh a little in amazement. He glances at me and blushes.   
  
"I'm just being prepared," he says defiantly.  
  
"You're making me feel a little inadequate," I say, and smile at him, thinking of my own bag. Besides Patamon and an extra T-shirt, I had a couple of squashed sandwiches, a water bottle, and a sports magazine.  
  
"Ah." Iori seems a big deflated, though.  
  
"You're so much like Jyou-san," I say, watching him.  
  
"Really?" He straightens a bit, unconsciously trying to be taller and older, like Jyou.  
  
"Yeah, he's always been prepared for everything...he's saved me from drowning once or twice, even though he's not a good swimmer himself." I smile, remembering.  
  
"I inherited the trait of Faithfulness from him," Iori says, looking a bit troubled. "It's a lot to look up to...I might as well try to be prepared."  
  
"Don't worry," I tell him. We both fall silent. I reflect that he -- and Daisuke and Miyako, to be fair -- have a lot to live up to. It's not easy, living up to the accomplishments of older and more polished people. Daisuke's the age Taichi and Oniichan were when they went into the digital world for the first time, but Iori's so young, almost as young as I was, and for all of his mannerisms and politeness, he's just a kid. Is it truly fair to have stuck the burden of the digital world on him?   
  
I reflect how scared he was yesterday, in the undersea oil drill. He was crying, his big green eyes all full of tears. He's often scared, but he doesn't cry as much as I did. He's a brave little kid, after all.   
  
I also reflect that I'm pretty glad I didn't inherit my trait from anyone else. The trait of Hope is mine and mine alone, I'm glad that I didn't get it secondhand, so to speak, with my mentors looking over my shoulder...  
  
I shiver a bit, odd in the building heat of the day. Iori looks at me, concerned. "Takeru-san? Are you all right?"  
  
"Yeah. Let's get changed." I chuck off my hat, strip off my shirt, kick off my sandals, and take off my shorts. I'm wearing my old green trunks underneath.   
  
Iori flushes slightly, and peels off his own clothes. Underneath, he's wearing a rather basic pair of black swimming trunks. The kid's cuter than one would expect, underneath all of the heavy concealing clothing he wears all the time. He would look nice in green, with those huge eyes of his. I note that, contrary to popular belief, he does have knees.  
  
Iori starts folding his clothing neatly, even arranging his shoes so that they point the same way on his beach blanket and putting his socks next to them. I have to grin.  
  
Then he turns to me and holds out his sunscreen. "Takeru-san, will you help me put on the sunscreen?"   
  
I shrug "sure" and take the sunscreen from him. It's a higher level of sunscreen that I thought it possible to buy. "How do you ever expect to get a tan with this?"  
  
"A tan?" he repeats blankly.  
  
"Yeah. A suntan."  
  
"Um."   
  
I shake my head, figuring it's no use, and start slathering the sunscreen on Iori's small body. I note with bemusement it's the color-changing sunscreen, the kind that's blue when you put it on and fades when you rub it in. It's cute.   
  
"Thank you, Takeru-san," he says properly when I'm finished. Then he smiles, an expression that fits so well on his face I'm sorry he doesn't use it more often. "Your turn!"  
  
I let him, of course; when Iori smiles, you have to be really cruel not to let him get his way. His hands are gentle. My thoughts are diverted, though, by the consideration that my back was probably going to be tinted blue for a while with the amount of sunscreen Iori was using.  
  
When he lets me up, we grin at each other for a moment. Then I pluck the container of sunscreen from his hands and dump some of the remaining contents on Upamon, who has been waiting impatiently for Iori's attention.  
  
"Takeru-san!" Iori cries out in half-shock, half-amusement.   
  
Upamon isn't quite as polite; he yells out "TAKERUUUUUUUUUUUUU!" Iori, now laughing, grabs his digimon and holds him against his bare chest so I can properly rub in the blue suntan lotion.   
  
There's something wrong, though. Even though I'm rubbing in all the suntan lotion, something about Upamon's skin or his squishy body reacts weirdly. In short, Iori's digimon's skin is now a rather interesting shade of --   
  
"Green?" Iori asks in amazement. "Upamon's GREEN?"  
  
I nod. "He's very green."  
  
Iori studies Upamon's now green body. "Upamon...it's odd. It's just not you." Upamon bursts into tears. Iori rocks Upamon back and forth in his arms, trying to soothe down his hyper digimon.  
  
"He matches your eyes, now!" I say, grinning slightly. It's just interesting to see a green Upamon.   
  
"My eyes?" Iori asks, looking at me.  
  
"Yeah, your eyes. You have nice eyes, Iori-kun."   
  
Iori looks down suddenly, and I can see a faint flush appearing once again along his cheeks. "It's all right, Upamon...it'll wash off eventually," he says, not looking at me.  
  
"I'm sorry, Upamon," I tell them both, bending down to be at their level. Upamon's still yammering a mile a minute about how he's supposed to be YELLOW, not GREEN, how come he's GREEN now, that's not healthy...  
  
"I think the color's fading a little already," mutters Iori. He sets down the wriggling madly Upamon, who does look a little less green.  
  
"Did I insult you, Iori-kun?" I ask.  
  
"No..." Iori says. He's bent away from me, on the edge of his own towel, starting to scoop up sand.  
  
"I'm sorry if I did, Iori-kun."  
  
"It's all right, Takeru-san."  
  
Silence.   
  
"What're you doing?" I ask curiously.  
  
"Building a sandcastle," is his cool reply.   
  
I scoot over onto his towel and watch. Iori's a good builder, the sand molds easily under his hands from lumps of dirt into a thing of beauty. Upamon's stopped wailing, very interested in his partner's creation.  
  
I study the small, pale boy. He's only nine...but he's so old.  
  
When I was nine, Oniichan took me to the beach a lot of times. We went nearly every weekend for an entire spring and summer. Sometimes, we would go with all of the other Chosen Children, sometimes only with Taichi and Hikari. Sora would come often, too, and we would see Jyou there a lot, alone. Sora told me once that Jyou liked the beach so much because the ocean reminded him of Gomamon.   
  
But I liked it best when Oniichan took me by myself. We would sit down on our towels and look out at the sky and the sea. We'd play in the surf -- well, I would play, Oniichan would watch me from a short distance. Later, he taught me how to bodysurf the huge waves, to jump up and down and be wrapped in the sea. We'd never drown, we'd play and laugh in an easy game that was started at the dawn of time.   
  
I'd build sand castles, massive things that were piles of wet sand and shells pushed together in no particular fashion. And Oniichan'd be there, smiling, cheering me on.  
  
And when our lunch was bought and the sun was hot and there were smiles on both of our faces and it was really time for a nap, Oniichan would start to talk. I loved that best about the trips to the beach -- that he'd talk to me.   
  
He talked about the digital world, and Gabumon, and how Gabumon said not to be afraid of his passionate feelings but how he always had to be, in the real world. In a lot of ways, Oniichan said, the real world is a scarier place to be than the digital world. There's monsters in both worlds, and you can't always fight the ones in the real world like you can in the digital world.  
  
He talked a lot. About the past, when we were just kids and our parents were fighting and how he always wanted to protect me. About the digital world, about what he had been feeling, how he'd perceived the others, even how he'd felt about me. He rarely spoke about the present, but instead built castles in the air about the future, how his band was definitely going to go places, about how we'd definitely live together in the future, about how definitely...he was always so positive, my strong, silent brother, when we spoke about the future, so negative about the past.   
  
When he would talk to me, I wouldn't say a word, just stare at him. My brother...   
  
And then after a while the spell would stop, and he'd stop talking, and we'd wash our sandy, sunburned bodies off in the sea and dry off for good, and we'd ride on the subway to my home and Oniichan would be invited in for tea, which he'd decline, and ride the subway back to his own home, by himself.  
  
The seasons changed. Oniichan entered junior high and had a ton more work to do, and his band did, in fact, pick up, and there were new divorce settlements which said I could stay at Dad's apartment for one weekend a month, only...and when I was staying at Dad's apartment, there was so much to do, always, there was never time for spending a lazy day at the beach...  
  
I blink, coming back to today. I'm not the kid, listening to Oniichan ramble, building castles. I'm the oniichan now, aren't I? But I'm not, because Oniichan and I needed each other...does Iori need me? Do I need him?  
  
Iori's sandcastle had been formed to proportions and beauty I wouldn't have thought possible on a sandcastle. He is still building, too. Upamon (who had regained his normal color) is bouncing excitedly on the sand.  
  
"Iori, you're amazing!" says Upamon. "Can you make me a bed so I can sleep in it and then when I wake up it'll be time for lunch, isn't that cool?"  
  
"Sure," answers a nonplused Iori, who promptly starts making one. I learn over and start helping.   
  
We work well together, and in a short time the 'bed' is completed. Iori takes one of his extra T-shirts and lines the 'bed' for Upamon, who settles in comfortably, yammers for several moments about how it's so awesome Iori, you're so amazing Iori, it feels perfect, Iori, and then promptly falls asleep.  
  
Iori and I grin at each other, all awkwardness forgotten.  
  
"Is Patamon like him?" Iori asks.  
  
"Mm..." I consider. "Well, they're both rather cheerful...I don't think Patamon is as enthusiastic as Upamon can be." I grin apologetically. "Our digimon are supposed to be perfect compliments of our personalities, and for Patamon and me, that's pretty true. When we were little, we were both the enthusiastic ones, and crybabies...when Patamon came back with me, he and I had both matured a lot."  
  
Iori bites his lip. "Upamon's nothing like me, and Poromon's nothing like Miyako-san."  
  
"Well, you and Miyako are friends, and you two are different, right? Jyou-san and Gomamon are nothing alike, either, but they're the best of friends, even now."  
  
Iori doesn't look convinced. "Miyako-san and I used to be best friends, but ever since we became Chosen Children, she hangs around Hikari-san a lot more than she hangs out with me."   
  
"Oh, that," I shrug. "It's a girl thing."  
  
Iori looks confused. "A girl thing?"   
  
I nod. "A girl thing. You know, girls do things without telling guys, and they have to talk in bathrooms behind our backs about hair and makeup and stuff, and I can see I'm losing you, so trust me on this one, Iori-kun, you'll see it happen in a few years." I wince mentally, imagining Hikari's disapproval at my educating Iori.  
  
Iori's eyes widen. He still looks somewhat unconvinced, but hey, give him time, he'll see I'm right.  
  
We relax for a bit longer, stretching out on our beach towels and baking in the sun. Iori reads his book and I look at my magazine, but I don't pay attention to a word in there. The sun is warm on my back and I glance longingly at the ocean.  
  
"Iori-kun, could we swim soon?" I ask plaintively.   
  
Iori doesn't look up. "What if someone tried to steal Upamon?"  
  
"Upamon's asleep, but I guarantee you if someone did try to steal him, Upamon would make such a ruckus that people in New Jersey will be able to hear him. Come on! Let's swim!"  
  
"I don't want to," says Iori with steel in his voice. We both sit up from our lazy positions, our legs tucked neatly under ourselves. He faces the ocean; I face him.  
  
"Are you all right, Iori-kun?" I ask, with genuine concern in my own voice. Iori's trembling slightly, and he looks pretty sick.  
  
"I'm...I'm all right, Takeru-san. It's just...the ocean..."  
  
I remember what he said yesterday, about him having bad dreams about the ocean. "Dreams can't hurt you, Iori-kun."  
  
"They've hurt me for my whole life," he says bitterly.   
  
"Maybe you don't have the right kind of dreams," I venture.  
  
Iori looks up at me, and I'm surprised at the emotion his green eyes display, the tears unshed within. "Don't be naive, Takeru-san. Dreams are real, they're memories twisted in a new way. I've had bad dreams for my whole life, my fears and memories of times gone wrong pushed into my dreams and haunting me for as long as I live."  
  
"Maybe it's because you never shared your fears," I say, taking a grasp at straws.  
  
"Who would I share them with?"  
  
"Miyako. Upamon. Your family. Your friends."  
  
He shakes his head. "None of them would understand."  
  
"Me," I challenge quietly.  
  
He stares at me, almost wildly. I think he knows, though, that I'm right.  
  
"You were there, with the other Chosen Children, weren't you?" he asks me. I'm confused, but I nod my head. "My mom had loaded my grandfather and me on a plane, the first plane out of Tokyo. She wanted us out. The plane was flying away when it reached these...these rips in the sky, and it started to fall, into the ocean below..." Breathing hard, he breaks off.  
  
I reach out and take his hand. I know it's the right thing to do.  
  
"I was...my mother and grandfather were...we were all sure we were going to die, there wasn't even enough time to...and there were monsters, outside the window. I remembered that so clearly...but then a bird-monster came up, and supported the plane until...we all landed in the big life-rafts. They were unsteady, they kept going up and down..." He's getting paler. "I...people were getting sick...It was smelly...I kept thinking, I'm going to die, I'm going to die."  
  
"But you didn't," I reassure him.  
  
His green eyes meet mine. "But I was going to! I've hated the ocean ever since..." He swallows. "Ever since then," he finishes.  
  
"You were in the ocean yesterday, and you dealt," I console him.  
  
"Barely." He pulls his hand away from mine.   
  
"You were brave. You saved us all."  
  
"I panicked. I was...I was wrong..." Iori shakes his head. "I had to lie, and I hate lying. It's one of the worst things a person can do. I had to. And I panicked, so you guys tried to force me into leaving, and you shouldn't have had to."  
  
"You were scared. It's allowed." Even to my own ears, my voice is soft, caressing.  
  
"I nearly killed you all." He's so stubborn! "Takeru-san, I nearly killed you and the other Chosen Children because of my fear. I wasn't strong enough, brave enough to help you. I can't even get over my fear here, now, with you and Upamon right here! I still can't go into the ocean. I'm still afraid. Takeru-san! How can you forgive my weakness? How can you forgive me?" His voice is shrill and pained with his own imaginary faults.  
  
I do the only think I can think of doing at the moment. I grab his thin body in my strong arms and hold him close to me in an embrace.  
  
"Ta-Takeru-san," he gasps. At first he stiffens, and then relaxes, his soft body next to mine, his head on my shoulder, his arms encircling my chest. The embrace, the hug, is like one of many I've shared with Oniichan when I was younger, but it's not quite the same, and I can't out my finger on where the difference lies...  
  
I put my mouth near to his ear. "I can forgive you because you're you, Iori-kun," I whisper. "I can see how honest and faithful you are, and I know that you would never fail in anything you set out to do. I know that you're afraid because you're afraid, but you shouldn't be. Fear makes use human, Iori-kun. It makes us who we are. It helps us become strong."   
  
I pull back my head so that our eyes lock.  
  
Green meets blue.  
  
Iori says, "I understand, Takeru-san."  
  
We hold onto each other for a moment longer, then release our grips. Something's changed, but I'm not sure what.  
  
I ask, "Are you all right now, Iori-kun?"  
  
Iori answers, "let's swim, Takeru-san."  
  
Of course, we don't instantly 'swim' -- first, Iori wakes up the sleeping Upamon and tells him that we'll be swimming, be good, and sleep tight, lunch'll be ready when he awakens.   
  
Upamon sleepily chatters, "that's good, Iori, I'm glad, and lunch'll be good, right?" Iori still looks a little anxious, I guess confronting his fears are hard, even when I'm with him. Upamon also notices this. "Don't worry, Iori, you'll be fine. I'm not Submarimon right now, but Takeru will protect you, won't you, Takeru?" I nod, very aware of two pairs of eyes on me.   
  
"Of course I'll protect you, Iori-kun."  
  
Upamon winks at me. "That's good, don't worry, Iori!" Upamon promptly starts snoring -- I think he's faking it, but I can't prove anything.  
  
Iori and I look at each other and nod. We start walking determinedly towards the ocean.  
  
I reach it first, of course, and wince a little -- after all the hot sun, the water's so cold! I wade in a big deeper, and I start to enjoy the feeling of the water sloshing around my knees.   
  
"Iori-kun, you all right?" I ask, turning around. He stands where the water barely laps his toes, feeling the water push at the sand under his feet.   
  
"Yes." Slowly, carefully, he walks into the deeper water, closer to me, as if he was walking on eggshells. The water's mid-thigh on him. A wave coming up hits him at the waist. He gasps and almost falls. I grab him just in time.  
  
"I'm...I'm fine."  
  
"Iori-kun, see that wave? When it hits us, jump."   
  
"Jump? I'll fall!"  
  
"No, you won't. I'll be here. I'll protect you."  
  
The wave comes. Iori jumps, and I jump, and we both are lifted up from our feet and float in the water for too short of a period of time.   
  
When the wave leaves us, Iori and I both laugh in sheer exhilaration.  
  
"That was cool!" Iori says excitedly.  
  
"I know!" I grin.  
  
It must be something about the ocean, the beach, or just the entire atmosphere, but I've always felt good when going to the beach. It's the same way with nearly everyone I've ever met, especially Oniichan. He would keep his 'cool' image when we were on the beach, but once we got into the water, he acted as if he was a little kid, splashing, yelling, enjoying himself more thoroughly than any other time I've ever seen him.   
  
Maybe it's just something about water. Water sheds inhibitions more easily than anything else I've ever seen. Maybe it's because being surrounded by water is the thing that's most like freedom anyone can get. I'd love to be able to fly, to see the world from an entirely new perspective, and swimming in the ocean, and being in what feels like a completely different world, is the closest thing I can think of to being truly free.  
  
It works like this for Iori, his face isn't all tight and screwed up like he was before, all worried about the ocean. He's all excited now, and I'm playing Oniichan's part, being all wise and knowing all about the water -- Oniichan was always a great swimmer -- and knowing instinctively when to jump, when to float, when to laugh...  
  
It's worth a lot, just seeing Iori in such a different way than I do every day in the digital world. He's laughing a lot more than he normally does, his body posture's more open, and...he's so different than he is, normally. He isn't assuming the weight of ten thousand tons. He's relaxing, being a kid.   
  
I'm not sure what I feel about Iori, whether what I feel towards him is pure friendship or brotherly affection or something different. What I do know is that I feel like life is just perfect now, with warm sun, comforting water, the sky a beautiful blue and the water a fantastic shade of blue-green, the waves bobbing and Iori besides me laughing. I feel like the entire world is so utterly perfect right now, and the only thing that could make it better for me would be to have Oniichan on my other side.  
  
But nothing lasts forever. I notice Iori's lips are turning blue and my stomach's rumbling. I insist we get out, which takes a while, each of us wanting "just another wave, please..."  
  
We get out and back to our towels. Upamon wakes up and Patamon flies back just in time for Iori to open his huge food basket and unpack the food his mother gave him.  
  
"Oh! Watermelon! And cucumber salad! Obento!" I exclaim. "Iori-kun, your mom's such a wonderful cook! How great!"  
  
Between the four of us, the hefty amount of food that Iori's mother packed doesn't last too long, not with our appetites!  
  
After lunch, Patamon settles on my head and Upamon settles in Iori's lap. We arrange ourselves comfortably, too sated to move, too satisfied to imagine anything that could make today better.  
  
Then I start to talk, and my voice blends into the wind and the sea and makes a melody.   
  
I talk to Iori about how my brother and I were split up at an early age, how my brother was cool and cold and I was a crybaby. I talk about being brought into the digital world and how I was so scared but it was all right because I had Patamon and Patamon would always protect me. About how the cliche 'guardian angel' wasn't a cliche about Patamon, he really did turn into an angel to protect me.  
  
I talk about when Angemon died and was reborn as an egg, I thought it was my fault he'd died, I wasn't strong enough to sustain my partner, I was too weak. I talk about always feeling inadequate, because I was the youngest, and how I was always treated as a baby by Oniichan, not realizing that was the only way he felt he could deal with me. And I talk about leaving the digital world, how sad it was, but how I knew, I knew I'd see Patamon again...  
  
I don't talk about the present, I don't talk about my feelings now. Even in a place like this, where the wind washes away all restraints, my feelings are too embarrassing to confess. I talk instead about the future, how we will defeat the Kaizer, how we will restore the digital world...we will...  
  
I stop talking, and the melody dies. I look at Iori, who can't take his eyes off me. For a second, I can almost see my younger self in his place.   
  
The wind blows tenderly, a breeze which moves my shaggy blonde hair and Iori's short dark hair and Upamon's and Patamon's ears.  
  
"Let's swim," we say.  
  
And we do.  
  
~owari~


End file.
